the forgotten Targaryn
by krashfire2992
Summary: ever heard of Viscery's twin brother? bet not. well thats because i got saved. i took on a new name, lived under the king's nose for years, but never knew how much bullshit i get myself into by meeting new people.
1. Chapter 1

"My king! My king! The mad king! The rebellion will be here in a month! Please your grace, let us flee from your foolish damned madness!" a lookout civilian was on his knees begging for his family's life. A chance to run. A chance to escape the mad king's furious downfall. The old man with silvery/ white hair perched in his throne of melted swords, his iron throne. His lilac eyes piercing through the man like daggers deciding the fate of this poor lookout's family. He turning to his Kings guard, Jaimie Lannister.

The golden knight with golden fair hair waited for his king's command. He already knew what was going to be said, the pitiful old man had been saying it all day.

"Burn them all"

"Go! You must hide!" my mother was shooing us away. Rhaella Targaryen was a semi strict woman. Viserys, my twin brother, should have been a stillborn. He was my exact opposite, weak and whiney, where as I was more independent. Mother couldn't help it I suppose, she was pregnant again, trying to rush us through the dungeons and into a flee tunnel so we did not face Robert Baratheon's wrath. I heard the women talk of it in hushed voices. This was all over Lyanna Stark?

Well I could believe that. She was always very kind to me. I was a total of 3 years old, fairly new to the world. But Lyanna always made my day, as well as my brother Rhaegar's. She wouldn't fuss when I would tangle her long dark hair. Her hair was actually quite fascinating to me, why was it brown? My hair was silvery blonde, why was her hair different? We would always pick flowers together and weave them in her hair. I tried to pick the nicest flowers, but always ended up with thorns in my hands, sobbing as she picked them out. Her deep sapphire eyes warmly acknowledging everyone and everything around her. We would play and sometimes she would let me go on errands with her. My favorite was the blacksmith. The smell of the forge made my face light up with a huge grin every time. Sometimes, if the blacksmith knew we were coming, he would make me a toy, or something cool. No, not the dumb idiot blacksmith in King's Landing, but in Rosby, just a small little town not too far away. Lyanna saved my life, or I would've ended up like Viserys.

"Your grace, lady Rhaella, please. You cannot handle both of these boys and the one in your belly if you wish to flee."

Mother spun furiously around, but I happily walked over to Lyanna. "And WHAT exactly do you propose Lyanna Stark? Pick one boy over the other?"

"My lady, if you will. I do not know how this war will end, but if Robert wins…. His wrath is not over exaggerated in the rumors. He will hunt out every Targaryen. Allow me to take Daemon to the blacksmith. He will be safe there."

"No…. Daemon is my son, he needs to stay with me"

"MOMMY!" Viserys bawled, his voice ear splittingly high "I got dirty! Carry me!" Rhaella sighed and walked over to me.

She knelt down and kissed my forehead. Her silver hair matching mine, fair against my face. "Daemon Asher Targaryen, my beloved son. Never forget who you are. But you are going to need a new name so Robert does not kill you. I love you. Mommy loves you so much. You have to make your hair dark like Lyanna's from now on okay sweetheart?" I nodded. I hugged her tightly.

"I love you too." Those were the last words I ever spoke to my mother. Lyanna picked me up and we set off to Rosby. She made me change out of my nice clothes, and into what I can really just describe as garbage sacks sewn into clothes. There was no sigil anywhere, no three headed dragon or anything. They weren't even red in color! Luckily, my silver hair was short, barely able to run a brush through it. Lyanna picked up handfuls of mud and rubbed it in my hair to make my hair look a foul brown, not lovely like hers.

"I'll get some dye and change it properly before I go Daemon. I promise. It can look a lovely black, but you also have to do your eyebrows." I nodded

We arrived in Rosby shortly, and Lyanna picked me up like a mother would a child, got a ceramic jug of black dye, and we went to the blacksmith's place.

"Hello Lyanna, oh! And little Daemon too! Sorry son, I don't have a toy made for you today. And I don't have any orders for you Lyanna, so what does bring you two here?"

"Rodrick, can you hide Daemon from Robert Baratheon? Take him as your son, a new apprentice blacksmith, a new name, everything. I would owe you anything you want if I am still alive by the time this war is done. Please, you have to help, he's just an innocent child." Rodrick the blacksmith rubbed his black greasy beard, his emerald eyes looking at the two of us. "Of course. Son have you picked a name or shall we decide on one?"

I puffed up my chest and tried to look as menacing as a 3 year old could be "Asher Waters" I declared proudly.

"Great, I always wanted a son named Asher." He patted me on the back. I had a 'bath' which was freezing cold, but the mud was out of my hair. Lyanna rubbed the black dye into my head, and then a wet cloth to clean it. She also did the same to my eyebrows, with Rodrick watching, learning how to conceal my identity.

When Lyanna was done changing my hair, which actually did look quite nice as dark as it was, she kissed me on the forehead, and gave me a silver direwolf pendant, one that could be put on a chain, or on a suit of armor, or a cloak. "Never lose this Asher. This isn't a three headed dragon of your house, sadly, you may never be able to see any three headed dragons again. But this direwolf will hopefully protect you, as it has done to my people of the north for centuries. I hope to see you again, but I may not be able to sweetheart. Stay sweet, protecting, bold, kind, like the prince you are." I held onto the pendant as I hugged her. As she turned and left, I turned to Rodrick, my new 'father' and 'master' and resigned myself to my new life.

I started to sort of get a hang of my new life. And then they came. The traitor's army. The rebellion. The great bear of a man, and a slimmer man that resembled Lyanna a bit, just wilder, rougher. They looked like they could both kill me without a second thought. I had my direwolf pendant that Lyanna had given me pinned onto my shirt proudly. The bear spoke first "Blacksmith, sharpen our swords, or I will slit you and your boy's throats" he bent down and stared at me for a long time. "Boy, what's your name?"

I stared back at him, trying to be as brave as I could, but this bear of a man scared me shitless. "Asher Waters"

"Your eyes are lilac boy, do you know what family that eye color belongs to?"

"No clue"

"Where did you get that dire wolf boy?" he roared, picking me up by the front of the shirt, over his head as high as his entire body and arm would let him.

"Lyanna stark picks up the weapons once in a while, she gave that to the boy when he tried to help her carry the weapons out of the shop. Now can you put my boy down before he pisses himself in fear?" Rodrick grabbed my sides and put me back on the ground.

"then here boy, take our swords to the workbench." The bear snarled and threw me his sword, knocking me down. I slung the sword over my back, hunching over. The sword was as big as I was, and was barely an inch off the ground as I hauled it to the workbench.

The slimmer man was much nicer. He set his sword beside the other one, and I saw the hilt with a direwolf head like the pendant I had on my shirt. My eyes grew big and I looked up at him, he gave me a small smile. "Hopefully you will be a great blacksmith someday, just keep trying and as you get older your father will teach you his great craft" this man was very nice.

The next day, they came back for their freshly sharpened swords, I proudly gave the nice man his, while Rodrick gave the bear man his. The bear man huffed and growled as they left. A few days later and we learnt that they had overthrown the king. I learnt that Jaime Lannister had slain the king himself, and the bear man named Robert Baratheon had claimed the throne. The nice man came back through and spent a few days with us, recovering from the war and now a baby in his arms. He left and I dedicated my life to blacksmithing, hearing everything about the king Robert Baratheon and his wife Cersi. I became Asher Waters, all of my proud dragon heritage stowed away like a treacherous secret. I watched as all the heads of my family were spiked on the tower, rotted, and fell off from decay. I watched as his family grew, and the Baratheon name overrun the Targaryen name. I never knew I was going to get into so much dramatic bullshit in the years to come.


	2. Chapter 2: growing up

As I grew older, so did everyone else. A year passed since my family was slaughtered by the bear man, and Rodrick took me to King's Landing to pay my respects to the new 'prince'. Later that year the boy died. Good. Anyone who was a traitor prince should die in my opinion. A few years later we went again to see a new prince, this time the boy lived through the first year, his name was Joffrey. Then a girl, Myrcella, then another boy, Tommen. When the second boy was born, the queen came to see us at our blacksmithing store. I was around 9 at the time, getting to be pretty adept at smithing.

"do you do custom orders?" the queen asked, I noticed her long gold hair, the same hair Jaimie, the 'kingslayer' had.

"of course your grace, anything for the queen of Westeros" I replied, wiping my forehead, which left a smear of soot blacker than my hair. Rodrick was out getting supplies, leaving me to clean the forge. "Although your grace, I'm only an apprentice. My father, Rodrick actually runs the place, so if you would like to speak to him to make sure it's in the best hands possible you're more than welcome to wait. He should be back soon."

Her eyes narrowed, her already thin lips pressed into an even thinner line. She was studying the place, contemplating on if she should wait or not.

"No, I will commission you to do this order, and you will do it to my satisfaction no matter how many times you need to repeat it." I nodded in silent shock. This was the first time I've ever been commissioned to do any work on my own! And by the queen, wife to the bear man. "I want two exactly identical necklaces, with pendants that hold the Lannister sigil. They are to be either be silver with a gold lion, or gold with a silver lion. And I want them to be lockets, which may be opened and closed and locked. To fit this…." She held up a very small vial. Rodrick had come in during her explanation.

"And when would you like that done by your grace?" he set down the materials.

"I shall return tomorrow morning for them"

"Well can I hear the explanation again, I may have missed something, and Asher may have too much soot in his ears to tell me properly"

"Actually, I want him to make them. I would like to see your apprentice's work. If it's even good or not."

"I'll have a set for you to look at by the first light of day tomorrow your grace." I nervously announced, making both of them turn to look at me. She smiled and nodded

"Then I shall see you tomorrow apprentice blacksmith." She glided out. Rodrick laughed and threw his hands in the air.

"Well then Asher, you better light that forge up and get to work!"

It took me working all night and I had just finished polishing the last bit of the second necklace when Cersei walked in. I handed them over to proudly, but my insides were trembling with nerves. Did she like them? Would she be disappointed and throw them at my face? Would she mock me? Kill me? An endless list of possibilities galloped through my mind as she carefully turned each of them over, inspecting them both meticulously.

"And uh, how EXACTLY do they open?" her scowl was frightening, either assuming I forgot that they were supposed to hold something, or furious that she couldn't figure it out. I grabbed the tail of the lion, which was just raised ever so slightly more than the rest of the lion, and pushed it in and up at the same time, then back, and the tiny gold lion swung away from the rest of the pendent, hanging on by just its tiny paws. "Marvelous, it needs to be that exact pattern to open it, that's very smart of you apprentice." Her scowl flipped into a smile as she put a tiny vial into each of the pendants. The vials fit perfectly into the pendants, not even enough room for a fingernail to also reside in the space.

"Are they to your liking your grace?"

"They are better than I had hoped for, thank you…..Asher was it?"

"Yes your grace, you are most welcome."

"Forget this ever happened if you are smart, and judging from the lock mechanism, I'd say you're a very smart boy." I nodded as she paid me (about double what I had been expecting to be paid), turned on her heel and glided out of our town. Rodrick patted me on the shoulder and took most of the money I had just been given.

"Good job Asher. But she's right, best to forget we even saw her." I beamed up, a smile ear to ear on my face at my fist solo job completed, and that I got praised for it so highly.

Nothing particularly eventful happened over the next few years. Until I was 16. That winter, Rodrick died and I was left to take over the blacksmithing position, luckily I had just been told I was no longer an apprentice only a few months prior, and had been learning how to run the place already, since Rodrick was getting more and feebler as time passed. Out of respect for Rodrick, and Lyanna, I didn't go wandering. I stayed in Rosby, this was my life. They gave me that life, and I wasn't going to throw away their gifts. The night that Rodrick passed, he told me an interesting story however.

"Asher, come here" I kneeled beside his bed, putting a glass of water on his nightstand.

"Rodrick, save your strength, you'll need it to survive the night."

"do you remember the tunnels that Lyanna stark brought you here in?"

"Of course."

"In those tunnels, it's said there's a secret room that the man who built the tunnels made, a sealed up after he put a few books in that room."

"Why would he go through all that trouble to conceal a few books?"

"It's rumored that those books are instructions on how to make Valerian steel, how to hatch and raise dragons, and how to fight off the ancient ones known as white walkers. It's said to be the room of forgotten battle plans."

"Rodrick, that sounds like old woman's tale to children."

"Asher… no, Daemon. If it is the room of forgotten battle plans, and you are the forgotten prince, I think it makes sense you are the only one who can find the room." He handed me a very old rolled up piece of paper. The scroll looked to be at least a thousand years old, and even touching it might break it. I gently took it by the clasp that was keeping it rolled. The clasp had no way of coming off of the scroll without destroying the paper it was protecting.

"Rodrick, Father, Master. Please, rest. Save your strength to fight the cold away."

"My master gave me this scroll and so I am giving it to you. It is said that the clasp may only be broken by a dragons willingly given blood."

As I put the scroll into its box, only the few minutes it took to go to the other room and back, Rodrick had given in to the cold angel of death. And I was left on my own.


	3. Chapter 3:before everything changed

I had grown used to life as the master blacksmith of Rosby. Life was simple, quiet, and peaceful. Then I saw it, the royal family heading away from king's landing. The queen and her daughter stopped into my shop

"Hello, blacksmith, I hear you run this place now"

"Yes, your grace, what might I be able to help you with today?"

"Maybe you can fix this, Myrcella broke it a couple of days ago" there was tears and shame on the girl's face. It was a tiny bronze lion with its paw broken off.

"That should be an easy fix, give me a few minutes please" I smiled and took the lion from the queen. It was rather simple, I just melted the arm a bit and melded it back together. I sanded and polished it up. I handed it back to the young girl. "There you go, a proper lion for a proper young lioness" she beamed up at me.

"Thank you Mr. Blacksmith. We're going to Winterfell! Joffrey is going to marry their oldest daughter Sansa, and im finally going to have a big sister!"

"That sounds really exciting, you'll have to tell me if you like your new big sister when you stop here on the way back."

"I sure will! I'll tell you all about the travel! I'm sssoooooo excited!"She practically hovered out, she was bouncing so much. I wondered who was so important that the king would go to Winterfell to marry his son, and not summon the girl to kings landing. Mind you, in my 20 years of age, I've never really understood why people do most things, especially girls. I then went and inspected the scroll. I noticed over the past couple of years it had begun to grow a spike, no bigger than a nipple, and no sharper than a piece of finely ground copper. But it was growing bigger and sharper, ever so slowly. It must be a sign I think. Rodrick did say something about willingly given dragon's blood is the only way to open it.

Some time passed and sure enough I saw the grand company returning, larger than when it had left. I could finally find out who this ever so important man is that made the bear man leave his coveted throne. He wasn't such a bear man anymore, he had taken up too many pleasures in kings landing, now he looked more like a pig or boar man. I instantly spotted the slim man from so long ago. Lyanna's brother. He came into my shop before I could even contain my childish huge grin smeared across my face from ear to ear.

"Ah, if it isn't the little blacksmith apprentice from so long ago. Any good at sharpening swords?"

"Hello, lord stark. Master Blacksmith now actually, this is my shop! Of course ill have it sharpened right away for you" I set to sharpening his sword immediately, and two girls walked in. one was a fair red hair, blue eyes, fair skin, medium sized woman. Appropriate for her age of 15. The other one was definitely his daughter, same dark scraggly hair, brown eyes, cold northern look, small and skinny though, a bit smaller than for the typical 11 year old she was supposed to be. The redhead looked around "Father WHAT are we doing here exactly? This is a dump of a place, and we are SO close to king's landing!" the younger one ran right up to my sword display and started seeing how sharp they were. The redhead rolled her eyes "ARYA, stop! You're going to get hurt and bleed in this atrocious run down shop!"

Arya spun around "SHUT UP SANSA YOU'RE AN IDIOT!"

Lord Stark rolled his eyes "I apologize for them, you know, girls are always difficult." I laughed and grinned

"No problem Lord Stark, you are all welcome here at any time no matter what situation you are in." I handed him back his sword, which seemed much smaller than it did 17 years ago, but the dire wolf hilt still gleamed menacingly as ever.

"Why do you have purple eyes?" Arya was glaring at me

"I don't know, I suppose I got them from my mother. Why are yours brown?" she smiled and blushed, then must have thought of something, and returned to a questioning glare. "I heard my father and the king killed all the purple eyed people because they were terrible."

"ARYA that IS NOT polite!"

I laughed anyways, she wasn't wrong. "I don't know, I'm just a simple blacksmith, maybe my eyes turned purple from too much soot from the forge." her smiled returned, and Sansa cracked a smile.

"Can you make me a wolf? I want a silver and bronze one!" lord Stark and Sansa rolled their eyes

"Arya, don't waste the poor man's time."

"I might be able to, but you'll have to come back in a few days to pick it up!" her head snapped up to her father, and he gently nodded with a small smile.

"We will be back in two days. Maybe you could make one for Sansa as well?" I nodded and met his smile with a matched smile. I secretly loved crafting dire wolves, they reminded me of Lyanna, and when I was prince Daemon, in my palace, well Rhaegar's palace and throne, but still, better, younger, simpler days.

I set into making the wolves. A silver one with bronze highlighting, elegant but mischievous, with deep ruby red eyes. The other one was silver with gold highlighting. Powerful, sweet, smart, probably preferred to use its smarts and looks rather than physical violence. With bright sapphire eyes, gleaming of pride and cunning. I handed the girls their wolves, each intrigued and in awe of their small token.

"How did you get the eyes placed so perfectly?" Sansa squinted her eyes at me.

"I put them in very carefully"

"How did you get them sunken in so well?"

"I pushed them in with my finger"

"Wouldn't that burn your hand?"

"Nah, I'm a professional blacksmith" her mind was thinking over the details, evaluating.

"Well, thank you for the wolf."

They seemed so happy, a lord and his two daughters, all blissful, untouched yet by the torments and enticements of king's landing.


	4. Chapter 4: everything red

The queen and Myrcella started to visit my shop frequently. Cersei started to talk more as time went on. It only seemed like a blink of an eye, but months had past. One day, during the boar man's hunting trip (ironically he was hunting boar) as the queen was visiting, chattering away at whatever was on her mind, my head felt like someone had set a fire on it. I winced at the pain, I've never felt heat like that before, the blaze of the forge felt like a gentle summer's breeze.

"Are you all right Asher? You seem in pain"

"I'm sorry Cersei, my head feels set on fire" she pondered for a minute.

"Asher, is it possible you have a twin?" a quick searing flash of the stupid whelp called my twin flashed through my mind

"It's possible, but I don't remember any."

"It's said that when one twin is hurt, the other can feel the pain, an old woman's tale no doubt, but a mysterious reason"

"Hah, well if that is the reason, the poor fool must be dead from searing heat" we both smiled and chuckled.

"There seems to be a lot of fools right now. Robert is sending people to murder a child. A Targaryen child who is pregnant with her own Dothrak child. Imagine it, a man like him scared of a young girl just because she is a Targaryen."

"I thought he killed all the Targaryen"

"He tried. Gods know he tried. Rhaella managed to run with her youngest boy, and was pregnant with a girl. So three escaped, but Rhaella died giving birth to the girl, and they ran to Essos." My heart plummeted into my stomach to hear my mother had died so tragically. I wanted her to live as an old crow hobbling around spinning tales of her time as a queen. After all she was my mother. And the pathetic whelp of a snake that shared her womb with me lived. "Well, I should return before anyone notices I'm missing. Nice to talk to you Asher."

"And you as well Cersei, get home safely."

I waited patiently for an hour to go by after she left and checked the scroll.

Surprisingly, it had grown tremendously. Interested to see if it could draw blood yet, and gasped at how well the tiny blade had sliced open my finger. I was even more shocked however, at the sight that as fast as the blade had sliced my finger, it had drank all the blood it could find. I dropped some more blood from my freshly sliced finger onto the blade. Sure enough, the blood disappeared as fast as a blink of an eye. The blood trailed through the clasp, and broke it apart, squealing from all the years of its tightly locked position. I set the fragile scroll down and started to examine the clasp's design. It was a very intricate forging technique that Rodrick had never taught me, whether it be from greed of personal knowledge or not knowing himself, I'll never know. This little intricate metal rolled in my hands. Then Rodrick's words echoed through my head, snapping my attention to the scroll. I gently set down the clasp, and picked up the scroll that hadn't been unrolled for so many years. Fear of ripping it upon opening it raced through my mind. I tenderly unraveled it as slowly and gently as absolute possible. There was only a few words on the scroll that unraveled out 8 inches lengthwise and 6 inches widthwise. The words were written surprisingly with fresh bright red blood. 'To the tunnel' well alright then, I guess I was going on an adventure to the tunnel i had avoided for so long, as it showed everything I had hated and left. I wrapped a dark cloak around my shoulders, put some flint and a torch to light under the cloak, and gently rolled the scroll up and tucked it in my sleeve. I locked the door on my way out, and slipped into the tunnel. I lit the torch with the flint, and set the lit torch in the holder. I unraveled the scroll again. The words had vanished, and the red blood had formed a new design. 'Follow me' and an arrow pointing straight ahead. What the hell was with this freak scroll? Whatever, I'm already down here, might as well follow.

I grabbed the torch in one hand, the unraveled scroll in the other, and continued into the tunnel I had hated from so long ago. I kept walking, following the scroll's directions until I stopped dead in my tracks. There was a wall barely an inch from my nose. 'Open me' what? I rolled up the scroll, and started examining the wall closely. Sure enough, there was a tiny dragon with sharp fangs tucked into a crack. I stuck my pinky finger into the dragon's mouth and it clamped down, pain searing through my hand. The rest of my hand twisted and grabbed the dragon's snout and head. I twisted and shoved its head into the wall. It released my finger, and a slab of the wall sunk in and slid to the right to reveal a new hall. A hall filled from the bottom to the ceiling with dragon eggs on the left, dragon skulls on the right. I slowly walked past them, eyeing them all, my mind greedily drinking in every detail of this long forgotten place and creatures. I reached the back of the hall, a staircase lead upwards, tugging at every instinct to turn tail and slither away at full pace like a frightened snake. But my heart's desire burning to pull me forward, no matter what the cost would be. It's a strange struggle, when your head and heart are at war over who gets to control your limbs. As if this place knew, bright red blood sprang in the wall beside me 'are you a dragon or a snake? Are you a fearsome beast or a whelp even worms would be disgusted to feast on?' these words enraged my mind, making it agree with my heart and I marched up the stairs. What I saw as I climbed the last step brought me to my knees. Brought me to my knees and tears to my eyes to be exact. A throne made out of dragon scales and bones. This must have been the old throne before the melted sword throne reigned over the land. Every inch of wall was hidden by a book. I weakly rose off my knees like a drunk man finding his feet. I grazed over the titles of the books. I found the group of forging and blacksmith books. I picked the first one of these books off the shelf, hoping whoever had put these books in place had put them in chronological order. I set the torch beside the glorious chair, and greedily sat in the chair. The book sat on my lap as my hands caressed the scales and bones. I then dusted off the spine of the book, and gingerly opened the cover.

I couldn't even try to tell you how long I was down there, lapping up the information of the first book like a dog lapping up water after trudging through a desert. The only thing that pulled me away was the warning flickers of the torch that it was going to perish. I tucked the book under my cloak, picked up my torch, and went home with a mixed sulk and smile on my face. After that I barely got sleep. My days were filled by blacksmithing by daylight, reading the books by night. I would only take one book at a time, going to the marvelous hall and room only to exchange books as to keep that place my own secret. Maybe one day I would share it with the bitch that killed my mother through child birth, if I saw fit. I looked at the scroll only once after that, as if to thank it for showing me the place. It only showed four words. 'Prepare. War is coming' war against who I wondered. Against the Lannisters? The Starks? Baratheon? The white walkers? Essos? Who the fuck is war against. About 20 books or so were dedicated solely to how to make dragon bone and dragon glass weapons. Another 10 were for only valerian steel and weapons, which is a long lost trait among blacksmiths. I started to try to craft valerian weapons and following these lost books. When all of a sudden Arya Stark ran into my shop.

"Can you let me stay here tonight?"

"What's wrong with your tower little Stark?"

"The king has been stabbed by a boar and my father was attacked by the king slayer." She was clutching her tiny little sword.

"Of course little Stark, here, let's see if we can sharpen that little blade for your protection" she smiled as I set to work sharpening her blade.

"It's called needle. My brother John gave me it when I left Winterfell. He's in the night's watch now"

"Well he gave you a very good needle to keep you safe. And here" I gave her a tiny little undershirt, it was just perfect for her size. "This should keep other blades from hurting you a bit. But you do have to go to the tower, your father must be worried sick."

She grumpily walked back into king's landing. Cersei came the next day

"Asher, do you have time to talk today?"

"Of course Cersei, let me heat up some water for tea"

"No, I brought wine, do you have clean cups?"

"I think so" I found a couple of my cups. Most people did not have cups, but since I was a blacksmith, I had made some beautiful steel cups that Cersei would love if they were gold. We sat down and she poured a generous heap of wine into both cups.

"Robert is going to die. He was drunk (obviously) and the boar skewered him before he could kill it."

"Is this good news or bad news?"

"Joffrey will be king, and as you well know I have no love for Robert. But Joffrey is a spoiled little monster, even I know that. So I'm not sure if it is good or bad that he is going to be king"

"Only time will tell, and he is already betrothed to Sansa Stark, so your lineage should be secure."

"As long as no one finds out about him. John Arryn did, so I killed him. Now the Stark has found out. And Jaimie has not successfully killed him, so I'm worried."

"Why not send him to the wall? Starks have always manned the wall, and no one would dare to believe him if he was there in fear of being kept in the wall themselves." She sipped her wine and thought it over

"That is actually a very clever idea. Any chance you can actually design me a new lockbox? I feel like I'll be needing to hide some things once Robert dies"

"Give me the dimensions and as always we can work it out."

"Of course" she gave me the dimensions and details. "I'll be back in a couple days to obtain it" she turned to leave, letting the wine stay in my home "Oh, and Asher, you need to blacken your hair again." I glowered down into my cup at my neglected responsibility. She knew I dyed my hair black, she had walked in on me countless times, but she never probed into what my natural color was. She was supposed to be Rhaegar's wife, so it was possible she remembered me, but if she did, she never said anything about it.

The next days that passed were hectic and a flurry of shocking kingdom shaking news. King Robert Baratheon, the first of his name, had fell to his boar wound and died. Joffrey had been named king the next day, his coronation less than 12 hours difference than Robert's time of death. Lord Eddard Stark was branded a traitor and sentenced to trial the next day. Within 48 hours of Robert's death, Ned had been executed. Arya had fled from king's landing, and Sansa had been imprisoned as Joffrey's future wife still. Majority of people that had been deathly loyal to Robert, Joffrey had either banished or slaughtered. The realm was changing again. War was breaking out again. Stannis Baratheon had taken arms against Joffrey, claiming he was rightfully next in line. Renly had taken arms against Stannis and Joffrey, claiming to be the most suitable in the line of proper succession. Robb Stark had proclaimed himself as 'king of the north' declaring war on Joffrey for killing his father in cold blood. And rumors of Daenerys rallying a Dothrak army in Essos to overtake Westeros had spread. Five armies fighting over a melted iron throne. They can have that throne, I liked the marvelous dragon one. I couldn't believe my ears when Cersei told me that people had named the stupid bitch 'mother of dragons' just because she had hatched 3 dragons. I had read in books, you can hatch as many as you want, however only one will truly be 'your' dragon. I saw the red streak across the sky.

"Asher, what do you think that streak is?" Cersei was in my home again

"I'm not sure, there has been a few stories to cross my ears about its representation"

"I told Joffrey it was to represent his new rule, the crimson red is a Lannister color, so the gods have recognized him as the true ruler of the kingdom"

"And is that what you believe it stands for?"

"Not entirely. Rhaegar had once told me so long ago it signaled a war of dragons"

"Mmm, I've heard that as well, but the people of the north say it's to represent the true king of the north, I've also heard of dragons, and of war, and now of Lannister pride"

"But, what do you believe Asher, you're clever, you've matched my cleverness for years now. So if one of the stories can make you believe I'd like to ponder that story."

I sat down across from her

"Cersei, you're not going to like what I believe."

"Why not?"

"I read it from a book. Its written like a poem, but it seems really spot on."

"May I hear the poem?"

" Upon a death, a streak of red will rise

Many armies fight, but only one will survive

Dragons and fire will cover the skies

White walkers roam, eating everything alive

The red streak dies, but war still rages

Dragons and walkers can't survive the ages

So where will you be, when your heart beats still

And to which tragedy will you be killed

Heat, cold, it's all the same

The throne is really just a game.

So pretend you have a choice in this thing called life

Only the red streak will survive. "

"So then dragons are your belief?"

"White walkers. War. Death."

"Either way, nothing good then?"

"No. nothing good from that red streak. I truly believe it symbolizes death for many."

We both sipped our wine and pondered what was to happen in the months to come, and what hardships we would face, and what one would break us.


	5. Chapter 5: the day a Stark died

"Did you hear? Five separate armies?"

"No! Did YOU hear, the king is closing people out of his castle?"

Squabble and gossip and rumors spread around the town, probably around the world, like wild fire. The red streak still filled the sky, its haunting trailing shimmer glistening like a painter's wet brushstroke of blood across a clear blue sky. Since Ned Stark's death, I've hated being in the town square, even to gather my much needed materials. It seems like all these idiots have time for is gossip. I really do wish one of the other armies would wash away that ignorant little idiot's existence. False prince. Lions or stags were never meant to rule, lions just roar loudly and try to scratch. Just big dumb kittens. Stags….. Well stags have always been fodder for predators. But alas, I forget my place. I am Asher Waters, a bastard blacksmith raised by a master blacksmith. Just a sooty faced, black haired, bastard grateful to be alive. But I had grown fully into my blacksmith stature.

As a twenty one year old, I had grown up and out. Over six feet, but under six and a half. Stronger and more muscular than most men in Rosby and King's landing, all except the mountain and the hound. I was just shorter and weaker than those two. My lilac eyes still gleaming like an oddity. My once fair face had hardened into that of a man's face. Rough, bearded, endured of the hardening years of boyhood. My blackened hair and eyebrows, darker than the night's watch clothes, kept short, barely able to grab a fistful of hair. I had struck a deal with the tailor ever since I was 17, he would make me semi decent clothes so I wasn't wearing garbage sacks, and I would mend things around his shop, and hunt the hides he sometimes needed.

Lord Eddard Stark's execution was that next day, I watches as people booed and shamed him, as he lied and admitted Joffrey was the true king. I watched as each of his daughter's faces fell in absolute awes and shame and terror and hatred all in one fellow swoop as he was beheaded. I heard the fake prince's stupid false preach about soft hearts. The most important fact I can remember of that day, was watching Sansa Stark's failed attempts and pleas to save her father as the executioner chopped off Eddard's head and a new knight held her back and a man of the nights watch covered Arya from the horror. Then my emotions vanished. It all sunk in. my house had been so nonexistent for so long, the Baratheon's had took over (whoever heard of a goddamn stag ruling? They were goddamn fodder!) And now the Lannister. Sure, the children were half Lannister and half Baratheon, but they looked so much like Lannisters they basically might as well be lions for all I shit about. This whole goddamn war, only a dragon and a wolf were in standing. Not this stupid king of the north boy, but that woman. That Sansa Stark, just like Lyanna, the cause of war. She was a ruling queen, a contender. Her and me, a wolf and a dragon. Forget the stags. Their all fucking fodder, whoever heard of a valiant stag?! Fuck that! A dire wolf mother. No, not just a dire wolf, although the males are scary and fierce. Have you ever gotten yourself between a mother and her child? I bet not. A male may be big and powerful most times, but get between a mother and the potential death of her offspring, the mother is way scarier than anything I've ever encountered. No, she may be a child still, but her eyes…. Just like that small dire wolf trophy. Those sapphire eyes screaming of hatred and loathing. She will be a contender in this two way race. A wolf and a dragon. That's the way it started right? That's the way it will end. The wolf and the dragon either wed or destroying the other. There may be a wheel, but a wheel only swings because of two equal forces, one on top and one on the bottom.

I'm getting sidetracked, the neighbor lady has buried her head in my shoulder, and I haven't put my arm around her. It's seen as loyalty to the bitchy prince, so I'm safe. I see Lord Starks head roll on the ground. He was so…. Northern. Loyal, honest, everything you hope to be when you're a young boy dreaming of knighthood. I gently put my hand around her outside shoulder, to comfort her since her tears are drenching my shoulder. I can't help but being sidetracked, as much as I liked Lord Stark, every time I see blood, I just…. Do you know house colors? Everyone does. Targaryen house colors are black and red. Red for blood. Red for fierce dominance. Red for unyielding unbroken shocking assertion. Red commands respect, for it's so vibrant. I may be Asher Waters by name now, but I will be damned if this world does not know by the time of my death that I am Daemon Asher Targaryen, the blood of a dragon. And like a dragon, I lay in wait, in my cave of solitude, as unworthy warriors seek me out, until I find an opportune time to strike, to set all the false rulers ablaze and use their skulls as my walkway to MY throne. To MY dragon scaled unbreakable throne. What do I truly believe that red streak means? Death. Death to all but dragons and those who dragons see fit to live. That my time to rise is near, that the dragon's blood in my veins has awoken, and is now boiling through my body, stirring every prehistoric Targaryen ambition.

We all clear the area as Eddard Stark's head is claimed and set on a pike. I go home and I wait. For the Night's watch and Arya Stark to pass through my town, for Sansa Stark to try to flee from her unfortunate predicament, to set my battle plans in motion. I may only be one man, but I am a clever man. I will let these armies kill and demolish each other, and when they are all tired and feeble, I will strike anew, I will claim the forgotten, I will give them a reason to fight for me. I will take one of the bitch's three dragons, she cannot control all three, and at least one will turn tail and flee from her stupid clasps. I will train it as my own. And we WILL set blaze to this land once more. Once more, black and red banners will fill the sky. Once more, chants of house Targaryen's words will echo through the air like a once forgotten wind chime finding a tornado. Once more, we shall rise and show these fools what dragon blood can do in human's veins. Once more, my lilac eyes shall not scream of fear and oddity, they shall silently scream pride, and royalty.

Now who shall I let destroy the other first? Such a simple little struggle over some melted swords. I know, since stags are fodder, let them die first.


	6. Chapter 6: War Plans

Later that evening, a strange woman came into my shop. She had long flaming red hair, tall for a woman, but came up to my shoulders in height, with gleaming emerald eyes. She was clothed in deep red shrouds, with ruby adornments. "this forge is warm blacksmith; does it not bother you?"

"No, I am a blacksmith and this is my shop and forge. Any blacksmith that cannot stand the heat is a poor artisan"

She smirked and stared at the forge "the lord of light would like you. Tell me, do you know your heritage?"

I scowled. Lord of light? What was this crazy lady smoking?! "I do know my heritage. Would you like to buy something? I'm sure I have a nice sewing needle available for you" she stared at me, studying me intensely, it felt like she was trying to make me instantaneously combust on the spot. After what felt like eons, she sighed and knelt on my soot dirt covered floor.

"Forgive me, my king. I was skeptical a lord of light, a dragon, would reside so close to his broken temple. I am your servant, yours for whatever you wish"

"uh… well you can start by getting up and stop kneeling on my floor" she stood up immediately. "Look, I'm sorry, but I don't know who this lord of light is, and I'm not a king."

"But you said you knew your heritage my lord."

I sighed and walked over to the shop entrance. I locked the door and shut the windows. "first of all, who the god damn hell are you?"

"I am your servant"

"sit, please" I offered her a seat in the eating area. She sat and tried to brush off her shroud with her hands. "I meant what is your name? I am NOT calling you servant."

Her eyes widened in shock. "I am Melisandre, my lord"

"ok, Melisandre, how do you know I'm a Targaryen?"

"you have fire in your veins, light in your eyes, and the fiery wrath of dragon's blood flowing through your heart. Anyone can see it if the look"

"Melisandre, do you know of the brewing war?" she paused for a moment, then nodded. "what is your opinion on it then?"

"the false ones shall burn in the pits of hell"

I sighed "more focus orientated, how do you think it will play out?"

"only the strongest will win. That means Renly Baratheon will die first. Maybe I should eliminate him to prove my worth and loyalty to you my lord?"

"no, you want to prove to me you're a loyal servant so desperately, tell me this, how many priestesses of light are there?"

"there are many of us my lord"

"how do you communicate with each other?"

"through the light…. And sometimes blood shadows"

I pondered this and sat down across from her, forming a plan.

"Do you know Stannis?"

She nodded gleefully "Yes my lord, just a drop of blood, and I can destroy him from the shadows!"

"No. you were right in saying the strongest will win. But how do you make the strong weak and the weak strong? You fatigue the strong and rally the rested weak."

"Melisandre, this is how you and your sisters of light are going to show your unwavering devotion to me. You are going to use a blood shadow to get word to one of your sisters that are in Essos. She is to convince the mother of dragons that she alone will cross the sea and rule Westeros. You are to go to Stannis Baratheon. Convince him that he is the one true heir fit to sit in the throne. When he has used your blood magic, wiped his entire bloodline out, leave him for his enemies to devour. Go then the king of the north, find out what his intentions are, his weaknesses. when you know all of this, then you may return to me. Until then, once you leave under the shroud of night, you will never contact me again. If someone even sniffs an air of suspicion about me contending for the throne, you had better hope you are dead. Because I will hunt you down to any corner of this world, and torture you so badly you'll have wished you were dead before you met me, wished you never stepped foot into my home, and been a stillborn. Am I clear?"

She gulped and nodded "Yes my lord"

"Excellent. Remain unseen until it is dark enough for you to leave completely undetected.

My plan is simple. If Melisandre is true to her word, and is a loyal servant to me, Stannis will kill Renly, his own daughter, and make a foolish attempt on kings landing for joffreys head. That will take care of the fucking fodder family called Baratheon, and two runners for my crown. Joffrey and Cersie will go into full blown panic mode from an attack like that, and the lioness will try to sharpen her broken claws. The confusion will result in all of her children dead, and her grief will make her mad, she will die of insanity. That leaves the king of the north, Robb Stark. What does that boy want? If he just wants the northern lands, he will bow easily. And lastly my bitch of a sister. If she doesn't cross the sea she can fucking rule whatever horse lands she wants. But if she does survive the crossing, I will take the dragons from her, I will take my throne and let her peddle her life away.

It sounds so simple right? Leave it to fate to fuck me over once again.


	7. Chapter 7 guest at home

Early the next morning, a raven came through my window, just moments after I had opened the shop for the day. The scroll attached to its leg was sealed with a lion emblem, and I knew who it was from instantly. Why in the fucking world would Cersei send for me like this? She's snaked her way into my shop for years, why be so formal now? Dumb woman. Anyways, curiosity did get the best of me rather quickly…. And that damn raven would caw and peck at me constantly until I opened it. I broke that damn lion emblem open, and read the scroll.

"Dear Asher,

Would you please clean yourself up, and come to the red keep? I would like to discuss with you a few things to mend around the castle that the blacksmith within king's landing has mangled and failed disgustingly at.

The Queen, Cersei Baratheon"

Hmm, well if it's something related to the state of my castle then I suppose I should go. I closed my shop and went to take a bath. One good thing about being a blacksmith, the water for my bath can be heated up rather nicely and are quite relaxing. After properly scrubbing myself clean, cutting my hair and shaving my beard, I put on my cleanest clothes. There was no way I was going home looking like a slob. It felt very weird to walk into king's landing, like a snake sleuthing back into its nest without a kill to have another snake gloat its kill proudly. Stags and lions staged through the city like their shit didn't stink. I walked through this city, where no dragons are anymore, where the weak and pathetic are begging in the streets, where the rich stayed locked in their keeps scared of the weak that are scared of the rich. This city had now so much divide. There was no humanity left. My father may have gone mad in his head, but his ancestors and Rhaegar kept this city together. There was still a divide, of course, there always will be, but not to this point where if the weak rebel and charge, they could overtake the rich and powerful. There was respect. When I was prince, I never felt scared of walking outside. Of course, with Lyanna or Rhaegar with me, I never did feel scared. But the poor loved him, when we would go out and he would sing, the poor wouldn't care who we were, we were just two brothers, spending the day how we pleased. In a city of stones and walls and towers, it never felt as cold as it did now. I never felt so… enraged. Yes, enraged, not sad or upset or lonely, enraged. Because not only did the boar take my home, he took away the joy and hope of everyone living in this city. He took away their love for themselves and the hierarchy, the cunt boy king now took away every desperate invisible thread of hope and respect and decency. They had nothing. How many people risked their lives for me to have a fighting chance? I got that fighting chance, but at the expense of so many lives and a city's hopes and dreams. The streets may be full of lions and stags, but I will show them that there's a reason a dragon has 3 heads. One for the powerful to attack, one to watch its back, and the last to shout and rally the weak to believe. Once more, this city will proudly display MY dragons. The people will no longer despise the king, no longer will they wait and wish for death, for the afterlife must be so much more peaceful than living here, trading a fresh rat to eat for stale bread. These people will be set free, through fire and blood I swear they will. Through my fire and blood, this city shall have life and hope again. Through my fire, this city shall remove the imposters and try to have peace once more.

Enough rambling, I approached the steps to the red keep. Cersei was standing, waiting patiently for me. "Ah, Asher, not exactly on time, but, I suppose you showed up, and cleaned yourself so I should be impressed. Come, I'll show you what I want to be fixed" she turned and started walking, and like the blacksmith dumb oaf I am, I followed without hesitation. My god, how this place had deteriorated so quickly. No doubt it was because of the rough, hasty, unprofessional destruction of all the dragon representation. I was so busy looking at the mangled eroding despair of my home, that I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and ran into someone, knocking them over and toppling over them.

"Watch where you're going" the muffled voice squeaked under me. I jumped up, and offered out my hand

"I'm sorry, I was looking at the decay of the walls" I finally looked and realized who I had toppled over. Sansa Stark was on the ground, staring her light blue daggers of eyes through the back of my skull.

"WHAT are you doing HERE, ROSBY blacksmith?!" pronouncing each word as though hoping every single one would pierce me with an actual dagger and cause me to keel over in agony.

"I invited him here, little dove. So try to be more careful when speaking to MY guests" Cersei was hiding an amused smile. Sansa blushed a shade of deep red and swatted my hand away, rising on her own. She dusted off her pale blue dress, shot me a dagger like glare once more, and continued on her way. Cersei also continued on her way, and once more I followed like a trained mutt. We reached the courtyard, and my heart plummeted to my feet. The state of the courtyard was disastrous. Where I would pick flowers now was barren except for weeds and thorns. The pond was dried and the lovely sound of running water was not to be heard. There was a couple of slews and some petals around benches here and there, but without my brothers' love and attention this place had gone to shit. "Do you think you can fix it Asher? It used to be ever so lovely."

"I can fix it, but you're going to have to tell me what you want it to look like" I nodded humbly. Fuck you bitch, used to be lovely, it was a paradise, or as close to one as I could have ever imagined. What the hell did you and your boar do to my home?! The walls are decaying, the gardens have grown barren, the courtyards look like a breeding ground for the plague, what the actual fuck did you two do to my home?!

She smiled and turned around "Follow me, I've prepared a room for you to work in." 'play nice Daemon, play nice' screamed through my head. 'Remember, you are Asher Waters, a blacksmith. This is your first time in the red keep, you've just seen the courtyard for the first time, this was never your home, so CALM THE FUCK DOWN AND PLAY ALONG' my feet knew how to play along better than my heart, and followed Cersei like a servant. I was lead to a room with a view of the courtyard and a stack of paper and a giant drawing table, tons of ink and things to draw with, varying in thicknesses and weight. A bed off to the side, on a makeshift perch, but nothing worth people's time to set up properly. "Asher, this is where you can sleep and draw while you are repairing the keep. Now, for the courtyard, I want it to look like…." she rambled on for hours. I scribbled some notes about what she was picturing.

"Ok, I think I have enough information, let me sketch a few things out and I'll show you in a couple days." I set my scrawled information down and sat down at the drawing desk. Sure, ill toss her ideas into consideration, but really, it's going to look like it used to.

And so I was a stranger, guest in my own home.


	8. Chapter 8: Courtyard Plans

Chapter 8

I grudgingly made my makeshift bed in my tiny drafting room before anything else. I then examined my drawing desk and the supplies it contained. Nothing of much use, they obviously knew nothing of how drafting out a repair for the whole damn castle would work. Whatever, can't say lions are ever truly that smart I suppose. As I was making a crude list of what I needed to gather from my shop to begin the drafting process, the door flung open, smashing against the wall (great, something else I might need to fix) and in walked the cunt of a king.

"I heard mother brought in a different blacksmith to handle the repairs. Kneel blacksmith, your king is talking to you" his whiney voice, eerily reminding me of Viserys' voice shrilled at my back. I turned and gently knelt

"Your grace, yes I am the blacksmith of Rosby. Your mother has given me her ideas of what she wants the repairs to look like."

"Ugh, of course she has. But I have a different request. I want these made. The sooner they are made, the less likely I'll be to kill you and spike your head." I nodded and looked over the list.

"Of course, your grace, I shall let you know when they are done"

"Make sure its soon, my future wife will be looking forward to it much less than I am."

He spun on his heels and paraded out of the room. I stood up and gently shut the door. As soon as I heard the click of the door shutting my face turned sour. Who in the hell would even think of a list like this, let alone have actual use for it in the bedroom?! Ugh, this stupid cunt needed to die, 100 percent before he would get a chance to use any of these demonically twisted contraptions. I thought briefly about what to do, then quickly walked out of the room. Without any thought, my feet traced their way through the floors they had learned to walk on. No need for directions, no need for confused wandering. I gently knocked on Sansa Stark's room door.

Three knocks…. Nothing… three more knocks, still nothing… damn all the gods, was she not in her room?! Frustrated, I smashed my fist holding the list against the door twice…. Hard enough to make the door shudder and threaten to break. Then it creaked open, Sansa's maid blocking my way into the room any further.

"Please maiden, tell me where Lady Sansa Stark is"

"And why should I do that? BLACKSMITH"

"I… I need to talk to her. Apologize for trampling over her earlier today" we stared almost accusingly at one another for what seemed like an eternity.

"Let him in Shae, but keep alert" the quiet voice said, seemingly almost as quiet as a whisper. She nodded and stepped aside, only opening the door wide enough that I had to turn sideways and still get squished on my way through. As soon as I had entered the room, I gently bowed.

"What do you want?"

I held out my clenched fist holding the list out at her "I know you aren't that fond of me….. but your father was kind to me every time I saw him, and so was your aunt Lyanna, so I feel as if in return, I must warn you. The king….. your future husband… commissioned me to make these for your marriage night since I am working on rebuilding the castle" Shae grabbed the list from my hand and took it over to her. her eyes widened in pure terror and disgust and panic and she read through the list.

"Please, Lady Stark, I know you cannot refuse to marry that twat, but for your own sake, flee before the marriage. I have to make these for the king, or I will die, but if he manages to use them on you…. I swear your family would rise out of their graves and murder me themselves, and I would not resist them at all, for I would deserve the most horrible death imaginable"

"I wish I could flee….. but I am to be wed to him. I cannot abandon my duties as a lady." She rose and handed me the list back. She tried to look me in the eyes, but my face had fell and I could not meet her gaze. I was ashamed. I sulked out of the room, ridiculing myself as I absentmindedly walked into my room. As I opened my door, I looked up and swear I saw Lyanna.

"Be the brave caring protective prince you always were daemon" that's it…. I'm not fucking bowing to that cunt. I've been good at dealing with it all since I fled kings landing, but I am not letting him torture anyone like that. I will make him the contraptions, but they will not be operational. Hell, maybe I'll make them backfire so it tears his head off. I threw the list on the table and glared out the window, wishing the birds would take my frustration and anger away. I never was a violent child. I was taught to fight by Rhaegar and then by Rodrick, even sparring with a couple of knights every once in a while, but I was always calm, serene. Ever since my head felt like it was set on fire, my anger rose to uncontrollable sometimes, causing violent outbursts. I sat at the desk and started to draw. I lifted my head up only momentarily when a soft knock sounded on my door. Gods, I didn't even notice it was getting darker out. I lit a candle by the desk, and opened the door. Shae was standing on the other side, a plate of food in her hands. "My name is Shae, in case you didn't pick up on that in our earlier conversation. Lady Stark noticed you were not in the dining hall for dinner, and asked me to bring you a plate, in case you had lost track of time and forgotten to eat." I nodded gently.

"Thank you, Shae, and please thank Lady Stark as well. I got lost in my drawing."

"It shows, you have ink smudges over your hands and face" she mocked. "May I see the drawing?"

"hmm….. I'm not quite finished the courtyard yet. How about I finish it up tonight, and you and Sansa can see the drawing tomorrow during the day?"

"sounds like a plan…. Blacksmith"

"Name's Asher."

She nodded and handed me the plate of food, turned and left. The food looked delicious. I sat on the bed and ate my dinner, making a mental note to not skip dinner again. I set the empty plate on the shelf, and settled back into the drawing table. I drew all through the night, picturing the courtyard from my memories and how I was going to recreate it with my smithing skills. By morning, the candle had burnt out, my ink well had run dry, I was covered in ink smudges, and my courtyard drawings and designs laid on the table, ready to display all their infinite glory. I had the materials list ready to go, I would be able to show the ladies, and Queen Cersei by midday, and start the work this afternoon. I stood up, creaking like an old man, stretched my stiffened body, again, more cracking and creaking, one would swear an old maester was in the room instead of a 21-year-old guy. I mindlessly made my way back to Rosby, cleaned up and gathered my supplies, and a couple personal items. The desperate cries of the dying poor hauntingly followed me as I made my way to the red keep once again. Through the entrance, through the halls, into my room, I might be able to throw a nap in quickly if I'm lucky today. I barely even noticed Shae and Sansa examining my drafts as I set my stuff down. Sansa however, nearly scared the absolute shit out of me. "Is this REALLY what it's going to look like?!" I jumped back, and my torso snapped up.

"Sorry, Lady Stark, you startled me. Yes, it should look like that when I finish the work, but I don't know how long it will be kept like that, since its will need the attention of a caring person to upkeep."

Her eyes went from shimmering and happy to cold and disappointed.

"So not long then, most people here don't take care of themselves, never mind plants"

I sat down on the bed, staring into her innocent face "Tell me, Lady Stark, what do you want to see to remind you to stay happy while you're here?"

Her face lit up as she sat down on my bed beside me, and took a deep breathe getting ready to explain her ideal happy place.


	9. Chapter 9: fleeing the fire

As Sansa paced throughout my room nattering on, and Shae sitting in my drawing chair, I sat on my bed listening. However, my mind kept wandering in and out of the conversation. About an hour later they left, late for something. I stood up and stretched, and a raven hurled into the room. Damn bird, this one was as ungraceful as I've ever seen a bird be. I snatched the letter from its leg.

"Master Dragon, Lord of Light

I've written to let you know that your request is being executed flawlessly. I have convinced Stannis to kill Renly with shadow magic, and we march to King's Landing. Stannis plans to seize control of the throne. There are only 4 armies in this war now my lord, and Dragonstone is to be completely vacated by the time you read this letter.

Your loyal servant, priestess of the light"

I looked at the books I had piled in a corner. Everything in my secret library had been read except for these books. Everything has pointed to my path leading to Dragonstone. I needed dragon glass. Fuck the plans for this place. I will rebuild my home once these idiots are dead. I set my books in my bag and set out to 'collect supplies' or at least I planned to. As I opened my door, Cersei stood on the other side, she must've been reaching for the door as I had opened it. "Ah, Asher, lovely timing as always. I require your knowledge of… area effect perception" I nodded and dumbly followed her. We winded down into the cellars. "You see, I have gotten news that Stannis is leading his fleet here. And I have a plan to retaliate. Its called wildfire" my eyes widened in horrific remembrance of how frequently my father burned whatever he pleased with wildfire. Even a drop could kill a man. And this dumb stupid bitch had 4 barrels of the stuff! "I plan to blanket the ocean with wildfire and burn them before they can set eyes on King's Landing."

"Cersei, you'll burn us all before any of those dragons even set eyes on this place if you use that wildfire."

"We plan to make another thousand barrels" I stood in awe "Either way Asher, we will win this war" I followed her back to the entrance

"Cersei, your mad. But I must get supplies. I'll see you again"

"You went yesterday. I insist you accompany me in anointing my father as the hand" I nodded, and she spun on her heel, heading off. I stalked behind her like the moron blacksmith I was. I was stopped in front of the door, as only those lordly enough to attend were allowed through. Sandor Clegane was also stopped at the door, accompanying the cunt king like the loyal hound he was.

As we both stood like statues, surprisingly he sparked up a conversation. "Bloody idiots, their going to tear this kingdom apart, and burn whatever they can" he grimaced, probably a flashback to his face being devoured by the flames in his youth.

"I don't understand what you're talking about. I don't see any torches being lit up" I stared deadpanned at the door, forcing my face to remain obliviously stoic and unaware of the wildfire begging to be set free of its prison like barrel.

Sandor grunted, or scoffed. I never talked to the man enough to notice the difference is his actions. "Run little blacksmith, these cunts are hungry for war. I'm leaving at dark. And if you tell anyone, ill rip you in half"

Bewildered at the fact I had just been called little, the last time that had happened was when I was 13 or so, my mind latched onto a scheme "I won't say a thing, on one condition" his head snapped to me, and his shoulders puffed up. No wonder he had been coined as the hound, he was uncannily like a cross between a dog and a bear. I met his glare with cold steady eyes "Take the Stark girl with you. You know your king the best. Do your conscious a favor, keep the haunted ghosts of the innocents you slaughtered in that boy's name at bay, and save that girl from a terrible fate. You do that, and ill pretend this conversation never happened" he mulled it over, for what was probably a minute, but felt like an eternity.

"Fine. Now shut up blacksmith" perfect. Now I had no quarrels within my mind about leaving as well tonight. So, fuck standing here waiting for a queen I will burn to the ground. I turned and left, Sandor as statuesque as stone ignoring my very existence there.

My feet strode nearly as fast as my pulse was racing. I unlocked the door to my home, opened my bag, and set the scroll in the bag. I looked around for any other items I wanted to take from my home, and spotted a hammer, my water sack, food, flint, and tongs to put in the bag. I grabbed a sword and a thick travel hood. The travel hood went to my knees, black felt with red stitching. the sleeves and hood were black felt with fox fur lining whereas the rest of the felt was lined with bear fur. I relocked the door on my way out, knowing it would be ransacked within a week, I tossed the key into the bag and went to my library. I took 5 more books to put in the bag, the ones I believed to be the most important. Dusk was quickly falling, the sun hanging just above houses with a thick orange and red giving way the purple and black hue of the sky.

I looked back to my forge, pleading Rodrick and Lyanna to forgive me for abandoning their sacrifices and efforts to keep me safe, looked to Dragonstone, sighed and started my journey to the east as I set my little raft out to cross Blackwater Bay.


End file.
